


Home Sweet Home

by msred



Series: Home [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Broadway Rachel, F/M, Motley Crue - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 16:29:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msred/pseuds/msred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been five years. She has a plush Manhattan apartment and a Tony, but something's (someone's) missing and it just doesn't feel like home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Sweet Home

**Home Sweet Home – Motley Crue ~ {www[dot]youtube[dot]com/watch?v=DasvuHUgUHg}**

**_You know I'm a dreamer  
But my heart's of gold  
I had to run away high  
So, I wouldn't come home low_ **

The first thing Rachel did when she walked through her front door was kick off her shoes. They were gorgeous – deep, almost pewter-colored silver with just the right amount of crystal embellishment – but they were also incredibly painful. Sure, when she was posing for pictures with Neil Patrick Harris, the nearly five inches that the heels added to her height were a blessing. But now that the award show was over and she was back in the comfort of her own home, she wasn't sure the foot and back pain were worth it. She remembered why in high school, even when she was dating Finn, she always wore flats.

Rachel made her way slowly through her spacious apartment toward the master suite in the back. The first thing she had done when she got her role as Fanny Brice in a revival of 'Funny Girl' was upgrade her living quarters from the tiny one-bedroom place she had shared with Kurt and Blaine, where a pull-out sofa and wardrobe in the corner of the living room served as her bedroom. Her new place was by no means a penthouse suite, but it had 1,200 square feet and two bedrooms, and it was all hers. She pulled bobby pins from her hair as she walked, stopping in the guest bathroom to drop them in the little dish on the counter. She knew she did things a little backward – most people kept their guest bathrooms tidy and free of their own clutter – but her master bath with its round Jacuzzi tub and marble countertops was her own personal little corner of heaven, not to be infringed upon by workaday things like hair clips and pins.

When she got to her bedroom, Rachel's first stop was the beautiful mahogany jewelry chest her fathers had given her as a housewarming gift when she moved into her apartment. She pulled the heavy chandelier earrings from her ears and dropped them into the top of the chest before carefully opening the clasp of the intricately adorned necklace her publicist had borrowed for her from a jewelry store uptown. Finally, after admiring it one last time, she slid off the large, flower-shaped ring Kurt had given her as a "Tony-nomination gift." Her dress was a beautiful but simple Kurt Hummel creation in a light shade of gray that complimented her hair and skin-tone perfectly. She loved the dress and had fallen in love with Kurt all over again as soon as the zipper was all the way up at the first fitting. Kurt had designed the dress especially for her, making the gown intentionally simple and understated. He wanted her to go bold with her accessories, and bold they were – leaving her feeling 10 pounds lighter once she had taken them off.

After tucking all the jewelry away safely, Rachel peeled off the dress itself and hung it carefully in her wardrobe alongside the dress she had worn to Kurt's debut fashion show and the one she wore to the cast party after opening night. She moved to her master bathroom to wash her face then back into the bedroom to slip into a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top, her preferred pajamas for warm weather. As she switched on the television that sat atop her dresser, the only remnant of her glamorous night was the silver bracelet that still dangled from her left wrist. She hadn't worn the bracelet since her graduation from NYU, over two years prior (and only a handful of times before that, since high school). Wearing it now took her back to a time when she barely took it off, and she let herself believe, for just a few moments, that she still wore it every day, that the metal didn't feel cold and foreign against her skin. She closed her eyes and saw, from the bed of a beat-up pick-up truck, stars that she hadn't been able to make out since moving to New York. She missed that view.

**_Just when things went right  
Doesn't mean they're always wrong  
Just take this song and you'll never feel  
Left all alone_ **

_Even as she slipped into consciousness, Rachel could tell that Noah was awake. When he was asleep, he was so relaxed, so at ease, so … peaceful, but she could feel the tension in his arms and legs – even in his torso – as she woke. She had fully intended to let him know that she was awake – duplicity was unacceptable – but then she heard him. She had already felt the way his right hand skated up and down her back (it may have been what woke her, but she wouldn't think of complaining), but the more awake she became, the more aware she became. The next thing she noticed was how the fingers of his left hand moved over her shoulder, playing her like his guitar. Even then she was ready to move, to lift her head and look up at him with soft eyes and wish him good morning. But when his breath blew gently across her ear and she could barely make out his hushed words, she froze. She just couldn't move._

_Rachel lay as still as possible, willing her accelerating heart to cooperate and just slow down. She was suddenly desperate to keep him thinking she was still asleep. She felt a little like a voyeur, spying on him in a moment when he thought no one knew what he was doing, but she rationalized it by telling herself that he wouldn't mind. Besides, she was his girlfriend and she was leaving in a few hours. That gave her the right. Right? She listened intently to make out the words slipping from his lips. She knew it was a song before she actually got the words themselves, and when she finally made out, "You always have my unspoken passion, although I might seem not to care," she knew (without really knowing, because as musically inclined as she was, guitar just wasn't an instrument she had managed to master) that his fingers were deftly marking out the chords of one of Mr. Billy Joel's most popular, most_ romantic _songs. She was somewhat familiar with the song, but he had never sung it to her before, and it certainly wasn't one she knew by heart. She listened even more carefully, because she knew that the words coming from his mouth were also coming from his heart. Even in glee club, any song he chose and sang by himself had meaning, but any song he sang to her when they were alone could usually be relied on to expose exactly what he was feeling at the time. He often fell back on songs to tell her things he was uncomfortable saying outright. They were quite alike in that way._

_At some point over the next few lines, Rachel must have shifted or tensed unknowingly, because Noah pulled her closer and dropped his mouth so that it was almost resting on her ear and sang the first line of the last verse in a louder, almost normal, tone. She snuggled into his embrace and buried her face in his chest to hide the tears that would undoubtedly spill over at any second. She pressed a kiss into his skin, just over his heart. Almost immediately after the first tear slipped out of her eye and onto her cheek, she felt Noah's hand move to gently lift her head so that his eyes met her own. He sang the last line of the song, loudly and clearly, looking into her eyes as he did. He only broke the gaze to drop a soft kiss to her forehead._

" _Good morning beautiful." And for some reason, that was it. Those three words were her breaking point. That wasn't the first time that she had gotten to wake up in his arms (although she could count on one hand the number of times that it had happened), but it would definitely be the last for a long, **long** time. Almost instantly, she began to sob, her entire body trembling as he held her close, his hands running soothingly over her body in an attempt to comfort her. Finally, after several minutes that felt like a lifetime, the tears stopped flowing and Puck's arms loosened so that they could both move from the bed of the truck._

She remembers little of what happened next. It was a blur of packing and driving and pretending she was anywhere else, _doing_ anything else. But what she does remember is that there were no words between them. Neither of them spoke at all from the time they rose from their makeshift bed until they had gotten back to her house, their supplies put away and the two of them standing almost awkwardly on her front porch. Because there was really nothing else that they could do, she leaned into Noah as he kissed her one last time, holding her breath when he bent to whisper in her ear. "I love you, B."

She honestly doesn't remember much of the rest of that day either – the car ride with her dads blending into the plane ride, which in turn blended into the taxi ride from the airport to her dorm. Then there was, of course, the jumble of unpacking and meeting her roommate and dorm mates and going out for an obligatory 'first night dinner' at the dining hall on campus. It's from the moment she woke up the next morning that her memory snaps clearly back into focus.

_She woke with a start, her heart beating rapidly and a vague, dull ache filling her chest. She stretched her arms over her head as the fog cleared from her mind and eyes. Taking in her surroundings and mentally orienting herself to the unfamiliar setting, she pushed herself up slowly as the ache grew stronger. As she moved, one of the charms on her bracelet snagged on a loose thread in her new quilt. The dull ache suddenly grew into a crushing pain as she freed the bracelet and literally stared down at Noah's words to her. She grabbed for her cell phone, and the pain became unbearable when she saw that she had two missed calls – one from her daddy and one from Kurt – and one text – also from her daddy. Her phone had died at some point during her unpacking fiasco, and the charger was, of course, in the last box she opened, so she left it plugged in while she went to dinner with the girls on her hall. That dinner had dragged on and turned into an impromptu tour of campus, the girls looking at everything through new eyes and with a new perspective now that they knew where they would be living. When she finally got back to her room, Rachel was so exhausted that she barely took the time to change into pajamas before falling into bed._

_Rachel felt bad about not calling Noah the night before, but she had been telling him for days (in short, broken conversations – they had a silent agreement not to bring up the move for more than a minute or two) that she would be busy and wrapped up in just trying to get into her room for the first day or so, so he should expect her to be distracted and not thinking clearly (her way of saying, "Picking up my cell phone will be the last thing on my mind. Please don't take it personally."). He had never been shy about calling her in the middle of, well, anything, before, so she didn't expect him to be now. The fact that he hadn't called even once since they separated over 24 hours before worried her. She couldn't imagine what she could have done in their last moments together to deserve the silent treatment. Her eyes filled with tears when she remembered how sweetly he had sung to her, easily the best wake-up call she had ever had. But then her breathing stopped as the words to the song ran through her head. One line in particular grabbed her attention. He had sung, "What will it take till you believe in me, the way that I believe in you." Did he really think that – that she didn't believe in him? She wasn't leaving because she didn't believe in him. If anything, she thought that her leaving with their relationship intact showed how much she did believe in him – how she expected him to be with her eventually._

Five years later, those words still haunted Rachel. She never had called him, instead waiting in vain for him to call her. Part of her thought that if he was upset she should give him his space and let him come to her when he was ready, but an even bigger part was just terrified of hearing him actually tell her it was over. So she never called. And for that entire first year, and even sometimes after that, whenever her phone rang her heart stopped for just a second and she squeezed her eyes shut momentarily before letting herself look at the caller id, both hoping and fearing that it would be him.

**_Take me to your heart  
Feel me in your bones  
Just one more night  
And I'm comin' off this  
Long and winding road_ **

"Oh Miss Berry, we're home!"

"You know, I don't know if we can call her Miss Berry anymore now that she's going to be married to that Tony."

Rachel smiled softly at her friends' banter as it floated down the hall and into her bedroom. Blaine's last words sent a tingle down her spine and caused her stomach to tighten. Kurt and Blaine's entry into the apartment drew Rachel out of her memories and back into the present. She had apparently lost track of time somewhere between releasing the clasp on her bracelet and the moment the boys got home. She ran her fingertips over the metal of the charm bracelet where it now lay, secure back in its black velvet box. She let her fingers linger on the 'N' charm a second longer than the others, slamming the box closed with her other hand so quickly that she almost nipped her own fingertips when she heard footsteps coming her way. She jerked her underwear drawer open hurriedly before slowing down to slide the box carefully to the back corner.

"Hey guys. How was it?" Rachel closed the drawer and turned to her bedroom door just as it began to open, Blaine poking his head in timidly to find her leaning 'casually' against her dresser.

"Are we welcome?"

"Of course, silly! Get in here! I want to hear all about it." Rachel had gone to one party long enough to show her face, but slipped out after having been there for less than 20 minutes. She sort of felt obligated, especially after winning, to show up, but she had no desire to actually _be_ at a party. Kurt and Blaine, on the other hand, were dying for that opportunity. Their lives had changed quite a bit since they both moved back to Ohio, and while they were happy there, they missed getting to have nights like this now and then. She couldn't begrudge them that, so while she just wanted to be home, she basically demanded that they stay. "How was it, was it great?"

"Incredible." Kurt breezed past Blaine, who was still standing just inside the doorway, to fling himself onto Rachel's bed. "Rachel, you should have seen some of those dresses. Whatever glimpses you got on the red carpet or inside the theatre could not begin to do justice to the things I saw tonight – the good, the bad, the ugly, and everything in between." He rolled onto his back and propped himself up a little on his elbows to look over at his friend. "But the highlight of it all was how we couldn't take three steps without someone coming to ask if we were 'Rachel Berry's friends.' When I confirmed that I was, in fact, your _best_ friend," Rachel rolled her eyes but smiled warmly back at him, "they all proceeded to gush over how absolutely amazing you are."

"Yes," Blaine cut in, taking a few steps to wrap an arm loosely around Rachel's waist and kiss her cheek softly before going to sit on the cedar chest at the foot of the bed, "and when they inevitably followed that with how beautiful you looked, my so-very-modest boyfriend here proceeded to inform them all, without missing a beat, that you were wearing a Kurt Hummel original, and that he just so happened to be Kurt Hummel."

Rachel and Blaine both laughed, but Kurt only lifted one shoulder noncommittally. "Whatever. It's just good business. Besides," he sat upright, "Rachel spent the first three years of high school going around and outright telling everyone how talented she was. It's not like she has room to be upset with me about a little self-promotion. _Well-deserved_ self promotion." Kurt stood and moved to hug Rachel quickly. "You really did look gorgeous, my dress just accentuated that," he whispered in her ear before stepping back to smile tiredly and swat at her backside before heading toward the door. "Ok, you two feel free to lady-chat as long as you want, but it's late and I absolutely must shower and moisturize before bed. Blaine – don't forget that we have brunch with Brandon and his new _someone_ tomorrow. Boy's worse than Santana, wish he'd just make up his damn mind already," Kurt grumbled on his way out the door, much to the amusement of the two he was leaving behind.

**_I'm on my way, I'm on my way  
Home sweet home, tonight tonight  
I'm on my way, I'm on my way  
Home sweet home_ **

The door closed and Blaine eyed Rachel silently as she shifted from foot to foot under his gaze. Kurt may have been too caught up in his 'Cinderella' moment (although to be honest, Kurt was more the fairy godmother in this little story, but don't tell him that) to notice that something seemed off with Rachel, but Blaine had always been the more level-headed of the two. He knew from the moment that he and his boyfriend had walked through the bedroom door that something was up with their friend. She was hovering over that dresser like it held the secret to life, and the fire that had been in her eyes all evening, especially bright since her big win, was extinguished. He knew that some of the magic of the evening probably died down when she came home and changed into pajamas, washing her face and returning her hair to normal as well, but only a few hours had passed. That was not nearly enough time for the fire to be burned out altogether. There was something else to it.

"Alright, what's up?" Blaine rolled his eyes when Rachel wouldn't meet them. "Rachel Berry, something is going on with you. And don't try to tell me you're just tired out from the excitement of the evening, 'cause I won't buy it."

Rachel put on her best innocent face, tilting her head and keeping one hand on the dresser while the other nervously slid behind her back. "I have no idea what you are talking about, Blaine Anderson."

The use of his full name told Blaine otherwise. "Oh little diva, I think you do." Blaine smirked as Rachel blushed. "I want to know why you're hugging your dresser like it's your new best friend," Rachel's hand dropped and she took a step away from the piece of furniture. "I want to know why you've barely said five words since Kurt and I got home," he watched her eyes drop to her feet. "But mostly, I want to know why you don't look like someone who just won a game of Bingo, let alone a Tony." Blaine watched Rachel's chest heave with a deep sigh. "C'mere, sugar." He opened his arms and waited, wiggling his fingers at her when she finally looked up at him.

Rachel hesitated for a second more before making her way over to Blaine and perching gingerly on his knee. She relaxed into him when his arms wound around her waist and he pulled her back to rest his chin on her shoulder. For several minutes, neither of them said anything. Finally, without lifting her own head from where her cheek rested softly against Blaine's hair, Rachel breathed out softly, "Do you miss it?"

"Do I miss what?" Blaine lifted his head slowly, giving her time to move her own along the way. When they were both upright, Blaine looked her in the eyes, trying to decipher the meaning of her question.

"All this."

"Do I miss Tony Awards and after-parties where my boyfriend shamelessly promotes himself on our best friend's coattails? Well, this was my first time, so no, I guess I don't."

Rachel rolled her eyes and giggled softly. She knew Blaine was being intentionally silly just to lighten the mood, but that didn't stop it from working. "Not this specifically, silly, but you know, just … everything." She didn't know why he continued to just stare at her as if he didn't get it. "Do you miss the city, the lights, the hustle and bustle, all of that? Do you ever regret moving back to Lima?"

"You do realize those are two different questions, right?" Rachel peered back at him with wide eyes. "Missing New York and regretting going back to Lima aren't the same thing at all. Of course I miss the city. I do miss the lights. I miss my old job and being able to get Chinese food at three in the morning. And I especially miss _you_. No one can help me through Kurt Hummel drama like Miss Rachel Berry." He squeezed his arms around her middle and smiled when she let out a small giggle. "But, even with all that, I don't regret moving back home. You want to know why?" He didn't wait for her to reply, continuing when she lifted her eyebrows. "Because it's just that – home. I love New York. The times Kurt and I spend up here with you are some of the best of my life. But, New York just isn't my home. I wanted it to be, but when my dad got sick and I went back to help my mom out, I realized that no matter how much I love the city, it's not where I'm meant to be."

Rachel seemed to be thinking this over. She slid off Blaine's lap to sit next to him on the trunk and propped her elbows on her knees to rest her chin in her hands. He couldn't read the expression on her face.

"Would you care to tell me what this is all about?"

Rachel ignored his question, responding with another of her own. "What about Kurt; does he regret it?"

"Well, I can't really answer that question for him," Blaine put his hands behind him and leaned back slightly, resting his weight on them. "But I can tell you what he said when he showed up on my parents' doorstep." Rachel looked up at him, eyes wide with interest. "He said he was sorry for telling me that I had to choose between him and Ohio. He said he was sorry he had broken up with me in such an immature fashion when I told him that wasn't a choice I was willing to make. Then he said that he knew I was dating someone – I wasn't, by the way, I had been on a few truly awful dates, but that Finn has a big mouth and he tends to get things confused – but that even so, home was wherever I was. So if that meant doing his designing and conducting his business from Ohio while he worked to prove to me that he was better for me than whomever this new 'home wrecker' was," Blaine mocked Kurt with air quotes, much to Rachel's amusement, "so be it. Then he kissed me on the cheek and said he would be staying at Finn an-," Blaine stopped abruptly, blushing slightly and clearing his throat. "- _Finn_ 's house. Before I could say anything, he was gone. I was out the door in the exact amount of time it took me to find a pair of shoes and my mom's car keys. I was practically knocking down Finn's door before Kurt could even unpack his first tube of moisturizer."

Rachel thought about everything Blaine had said. She thought about how he had gone back to Ohio for his family, then about how her own dad had been telling her how worried he was getting about her Daddy's heart, thanks to his poor eating habits and the genetic risk he faced simply because of his race. Then she thought about Kurt; he had never really told her the full story of his move to Ohio, leaving her to speculate until now. Kurt was the only person she had ever known who was so much like her. They had the same drive, the same passion. And in high school they had both sworn that there was no way they could be happy anywhere but New York. But Kurt seemed happy. He hadn't had to quit his job, and although he didn't get to do quite as much as he did when he was in the city, he was thriving at it from Lima. He and Blaine were planning to come back to New York late the next summer or early that fall to get married. Ok, so they still wouldn't technically be married in Ohio, but either way, those didn't sound like the actions of someone who regretted his choices.

**_You know that I've seen  
Too many romantic dreams  
Up in lights, fallin' off  
The silver screen_ **

Blaine never told Kurt about his somewhat cryptic conversation with Rachel. For one thing, he always tried his best to stay out of the middle of things that weren't his business directly. For another, he wasn't even completely sure what he would tell, because he never did get a clear answer from Rachel as to why they were playing 20 questions regarding his and Kurt's personal life. They talked for nearly an hour, Rachel dodging all of his questions and instead continuing to pepper him with ones of her own. They (he) talked about his family, about Kurt's family, about both of their jobs, even their house and how they ended up with it. And then he left her room to join Kurt in bed, still confused and, honestly, a little worried about his friend.

But Blaine didn't have to keep his 'secret' for long. Less than two weeks after he and Kurt returned to Lima from visiting Rachel and attending the Tonys, Rachel sent both men frantic-sounding texts. (Yes – a text can 'sound' frantic, especially when it comes from Rachel Berry and uses all capital letters and an abundance of exclamation points.) When they logged onto Skype that night as ordered, Rachel was waiting. "I'm moving." She didn't even give them a chance to say hello.

"Well," Blaine smirked, "hello to you too, sugar."

Kurt didn't take the news so well. "Excuse me! What in Prada do you mean you are moving?" He didn't give her time to answer. "You'll never find another decent apartment in Manhattan that you can afford. You _love_ your apartment!"

Rachel waited (somewhat) patiently for Kurt to finish his rant. When he finally seemed to be finished, she spoke to him sweetly. "Kurt, I can't disagree with anything you've said." She watched him look smugly into the webcam. "But I'm not moving into another place in Manhattan."

"Oh Rachel no!" Kurt nearly exploded, Blaine and Rachel both rolling their eyes at his dramatics. "Not Brooklyn! You can't do that to yourself; you can't do that to me! Please, Rachel."

Rachel couldn't help but giggle at the tears she could see forming in her friend's eyes. "No Kurt, not Brooklyn." She watched Kurt heave a deep sigh of relief, one hand flying to cover his heart and the other searching out Blaine's. "I was thinking somewhere a bit farther from here and a bit closer to you." Rachel lowered her head and looked up at the camera from beneath her lashes.

Kurt only looked more confused, but a sudden understanding dawned on Blaine. He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, ready for the show he knew would begin as soon as Rachel dropped her bombshell on her best friend, quite possibly the only person on earth more dramatic than her.

"I'm going to," Rachel paused, taking a deep breath and waiting until she was sure she had both boys' full attention, "move back to Lima."

Blaine only smiled softly. Okay, so he hadn't actually seen this coming until about a minute before, but even then he hadn't been surprised. If anything, he was surprised that their conversation in her bedroom hadn't clued him in to what was going on with her. Kurt, on the other hand, was beside himself. He spend nearly 30 minutes trying to convince Rachel that she didn't really want to move back and that she was about to make the biggest mistake of her life.

"I don't understand!" Rachel had finally had enough. She was exasperated with Kurt and his arguments. "You moved back to Lima, you're happy, right?" She didn't think he even realized he was doing it when his hand moved to rest on Blaine's knee.

"Of course I am." His voice was softer than it had been since they started the conversation. "But Rachel," he leaned forward and looked at her searchingly. "I came back to a family, and ... and to Blaine." Blaine smiled. "And I was able to bring my career with me. I didn't give anything up by coming back, and I gained the most important thing in my life. But you don't have that sweetie. You have an amazing career that you can't bring with you, and while I know Blaine and I are ah-mazing, you don't really have anything else to come back for."

"That's not true. As you have, so modestly, pointed out, my two best friends in the _world_ are there," she smiled and winked, "and my family – my dads – are there. That's important to me and spending so much time away from them these past five years has been difficult for me, even as much as I love it here. And as for my career, well, I'm not sure you're completely right about that either." If she hadn't been so nervous, both about telling Kurt and Blaine about her decision and about the decision itself, she would have found the expression on Kurt's face absolutely priceless. "I've been in two Broadway shows – one of them literally being my dream role – and I've won a Tony. I did what I came here to do, much sooner than even I thought possible. Sure, I could stay here and continue being wildly successful, I'm sure. But it would never change anything that I've already done, and I seriously doubt it would ever get any better than Fanny Brice and performing 'Don't Rain on my Parade' at the Tonys just before winning one." She watched Kurt's mouth open, aware that he had a reply ready. "No Kurt, you're not going to talk me out of this. Please don't try. Just – Just be my friends. I need you to be my friends right now."

It took a few more minutes, but Rachel finally convinced Kurt that she had not, in fact, lost her mind and that the move was something she had thought out and really wanted. Blaine only sat there watching Rachel and Kurt both in turn. He knew it was pointless to interject; his boyfriend and best friend were both much too strong-willed for him to even attempt that. But then, once Kurt accepted that Rachel really was going to cease being a New Yorker and relocate her life back to Ohio, Blaine almost had to cover his ears to block out the shrieks. For someone who had been so nervous to share her decision in the first place, and someone who had initially been so unwilling to hear it, the two were certainly happy about it once it was out there.

"Okay," Rachel breathed out once she and Kurt had finally stopped screaming, "there is one more thing that I need from you guys."

"Anything sugar." Kurt had gotten his chance to be the squealing, excited best friend, now it was Blaine's turn to step up and play his part as the supportive best friend.

"I need a house."

"What!" Blaine put a hand over Kurt's to calm him. Leave it to Kurt to misunderstand her request.

"I'll talk to mom tomorrow. I'll let her know to run any listings by me that she thinks you might like. Why don't you e-mail me any requests or specifications you have; I'll pass them along to her."

"Thank you." Rachel smiled at her two best friends gratefully. "Oh, and one more thing, and this one really is the last, I promise." She giggled sheepishly at the looks on the men's faces. Was there ever a 'last thing' with Rachel Berry? "This stays between us. I mean, my dads will know, of course, but that's it. No one else."

"But why -," Kurt's question was cut off by Blaine's hand gripping his knee tightly, hopefully out of the webcam's range.

"Of course Rachel, whatever you want. We won't tell a soul, and I'll be sure to ask mom to keep it quiet as well. She can just tell her bosses that I'm her client or something." Blaine sent her a knowing look through the webcam. "I mean, the last thing you need is to have to deal with media questions and speculation as to why recent Tony-award-winner Rachel Berry is giving up everything to go flitting back to Ohio. _Everyone_ can find out whenever you are ready."

Rachel nodded and sent Blaine another appreciative smile, partly for conceding so easily to her request, but mostly for telling the lie that she didn't want to have to tell her best friends – she was more than capable of dealing with the media on her own, but she had even more daunting reasons to want to keep the move a secret until she was settled and all was final.

**_My heart's like an open book  
For the whole world to read  
Sometime, nothing keeps me together  
At the seams_ **

It had been over three months since Rachel had told Blaine and Kurt about her plans to move back to Lima and asked them to help her find a house, and Mrs. Anderson had still yet to find her a suitable home. It wasn't that she was being overly picky, really. It was just that Lima was a very small, very family-oriented town, and houses just didn't come available that often. Rachel almost wondered how Blaine's mother, and her co-workers at the real estate agency, kept afloat, but she knew that there had probably been some houses available that Blaine hadn't passed on to her for various reasons. She also knew that much of their business came from the new subdivisions being built on the outskirts of town, but those subdivisions didn't interest Rachel. It really didn't bother her – the waiting. She had promised her director that she would stay with the show until the spring, when an up-and-coming young actress would finish her run as Belle in _Beauty and the Beast_ and move over to take Rachel's place as Fanny Brice. And since she was staying until April for the show anyway, she decided she may as well stay until her lease was up at the end of May. That left right at eight months for Mrs. Anderson to find Rachel's new home. She had faith.

Besides, now Rachel had company on their way to distract her, and she refused to let herself think about anything else. She had been a little hesitant when Finn first contacted her asking for help with a birthday/anniversary gift for his girlfriend, but once she agreed, she found herself each day getting more and more anxious to see her old friend and meet his new girlfriend. It had been almost five months since she had set aside the tickets and used her connections to get Finn a great deal on a hotel, and now she waited impatiently for Finn and Chelsea to arrive at her favorite diner. She had helped Finn with all the planning, suggesting that he plan the trip so that the show would fall on the last full day of their visit, giving Chelsea something to look forward to over the four days they would be in the city and ensuring that the trip would end on a high note. Rachel had given Finn suggestions for how to fill the first three days of the trip, offering to meet them for a late lunch after they had arrived in the city and checked into their hotel, and then to host them at her own home the next evening for dinner and drinks. She had really tried not to be pushy about it, but that didn't appear to be an issue, as Finn seemed to be incredibly excited by her offer. Apparently Chelsea was a fan.

When Finn and Chelsea finally arrived at the hole-in-the-wall restaurant, Rachel realized that she hadn't ever been that excited to see him, even when they were dating. She exchanged hugs with both members of the couple before they all sat down to order and talk – Rachel wanting to both catch up on everything that had happened in Finn's life over the past five years (from his own mouth, she already knew most everything from Kurt) and learn everything there was to know about Chelsea. She was amazed, as was Finn, to find that, for as different as she and Chelsea were, they got along incredibly well. Under different circumstances (future circumstances?) they could probably be the best of friends. She was truly sad to say goodbye to them when she couldn't wait another minute longer to leave for the theatre, but everyone involved reaffirmed that they were looking forward to a subsequent meeting the following night at Rachel's apartment. As Rachel walked the eight blocks to the theatre, she could only think that her current feelings were only further proof that she was doing the right thing.

The next night, Rachel's doorbell rang just as she was pulling a fresh loaf of garlic bread from the oven. Smiling and humming to herself softly, she let Finn and Chelsea into her home. All through dinner, she couldn't stop thinking about how nice it was to share an evening with people who didn't expect anything from her. Finn and Chelsea didn't want to have dinner with _Rachel Berry – Broadway Star_ , they wanted to have dinner with _Rachel Berry – Finn's friend from high school._

"Seriously?" Chelsea peered at Finn over the rim of her wine glass, the three friends lounging on various pieces of furniture in Rachel's living room after dinner. "You actually _broke_ her _nose_?"

"Come on!" Finn took another large swig of his beer before setting the bottle on the end table. "That was like ...," both girls watched as he did the math in his head, "almost seven years ago! And it's not like I did it on purpose." He pointed at Rachel almost accusingly, "She'd been watching me dance for a year and a half. She should have known not to stand so close."

Chelsea giggled as Rachel clutched a hand to her chest, gasping in mock-horror. "Why Finn, how dare – Oh, sorry, just a second." Rachel was cut off when she heard her phone vibrating on the table across the room. "Hello?" she chirped into the phone.

"Rachel, it's Kurt, is Finn there?"

"Yes, of course," Rachel smiled across the room at her guests. Kurt knew the plan for Finn's trip, so he should have known that Finn and Chelsea would be at Rachel's apartment at that time.

"Ok, don't react. Act like this is a business call or something and get somewhere they can't hear you."

"I'm sorry guys," Rachel looked at her guests apologetically, internally thanking Tisch for her training as an actress, "but this is really important. I'm just going to step out onto the balcony and I'll be right back, I promise." Both Finn and Chelsea nodded at her and smiled warmly. "Finn, the remote is in that wooden box on the coffee table and there are more beers in the fridge. Chelsea, I left the wine on the kitchen counter if you need a refill." She continued to smile at them both as she grabbed her own wine glass from the coffee table and backed out the sliding glass door and onto the balcony, making sure to close the door securely behind her.

"Kurt," she hissed into the phone once she felt it was safe, "is everything okay? Oh God, did something happen to Carol? Your dad?" Rachel's heart was racing and she knew her voice was growing more frantic by the second. She gripped the bowl of her wine glass so tightly in the hand that wasn't clutching the phone that it was a wonder it didn't shatter between her fingers.

"Geez Rachel, it's nothing like that. Must you always be so dramatic?"

"Seriously, Kurt?" she spat. She could hear Blaine reprimanding him on the other end of the line as well. " _You_ called _me_ with this whole cloak and dagger routine, remember?"

"Well, you're the one who wanted -,"

Kurt's voice dropped off and Rachel could hear a commotion on the other end of the line before Blaine's smooth voice took over.

"Hey sugar. Do you remember old Mrs. Carpenter, a few blocks down from McKinley?"

"Of course! My daddy used to help her with her yard, and she would bring me in for hot cocoa in the fall when he cleaned up all the leaves from that big maple tree she had." Rachel smiled at her memories of the woman and took a sip of her wine, instantly more relaxed than she had been talking to Kurt. "Then in middle school, when I informed her that I had made the decision to become a vegan, she started buying me non-dairy cocoa. She's a precious woman."

"And what did you think of her house?" Blaine's smile was almost audible through the phone.

"Are you kidding?" Rachel gushed, "I adore that house. It's gorgeous, with that little balcony on the second floor and those wooden posts on the porch, and the kitchen is perfect. But, Blaine, why are you asking me this?" Confusion tinged Rachel's voice until the implications of Blaine's question really sank in. "Oh God, Blaine, please tell me she didn't ..." She couldn't finish the sentence.

"No, no." Blaine's voice was calm, almost soothing. "Nothing like that, Rach. Her grandson got married last year and he and his wife finally convinced her to move to a little retirement community close to them in Florida."

"So ..." Rachel didn't want to let herself get too excited. "Her house, it's ... for sale?"

"Well," Blaine hesitated, "not technically. Not yet. But Mrs. Carpenter knows my mom, has known her practically her entire life. She called and told her that she's going to be moving in the spring and that she wanted mom to have first shot at the house. We can have everything finalized and the whole place in your name before it can even go on the market."

"Blaine, that's ... you're wonderful." Rachel blindly reached to set her glass on the balcony railing then placed a hand over her chest and blinked back tears as she watched Finn and Chelsea move around her living room, taking in all the pieces of her life that decorated her current home.

~.~

Later that night, Finn climbed into the plush hotel bed with his girlfriend and wrapped an arm around her waist only to be stopped when the words coming from her mouth were not at all what he expected.

"She's still in love with him." Chelsea folded her hands on top of her stomach and stared up at the ceiling.

"Huh?" Finn stopped his oral assault on his girlfriend's neck.

"Rachel," Chelsea stated matter-of-factly. "She's still in love with Puck."

"Babe," Finn groaned, rolling his eyes and falling back onto the bed. As soon as they had checked in at the Toledo airport and Chelsea figured out where they were going, Finn made her promise not to mention Puck to Rachel. Apparently that rule didn't extend to when the two of them were alone in their hotel room.

"No Finn, I mean it. Did you see where her Tony was?"

"Yeah, it was on one of those weird bookshelves that looks like it's just, like, floating there. Those things are so weird." Finn shuddered a little and his voice took on an almost whiny tone.

Chelsea rolled her eyes at her boyfriend. "Right, but did you see what else was on the shelf?" Finn shrugged. "A Nationals picture from your senior year."

"Oh." Finn clearly didn't see the significance. "Guess that was like, her _wall of Rachel winning stuff._ You shoulda seen her place in high school. I bet her dads have, like, turned her room into a shrine or something. B'sides," he shrugged, "we all have that picture. I have it on my dresser. Do you think _I'm_ in love with Puck?"

Chelsea slapped him across the chest. "Cute." Finn laughed. "But it wasn't the same picture. The one you have – it's the same as the one Mercedes has, the same as the one in the trophy case at the school." Finn nodded. "Rachel's was different. I mean, it was clearly from the same time, just probably a minute or so later." Finn turned his head to look at Chelsea, intrigued. "You and Mr. Schuester were holding the trophy, turned toward the side of the stage like you were on your way out, and everyone else was looking after you and cheering. But Rachel and Puck, they were kind of on the edge of the action, just there by themselves. He was holding her by her waist and she was just staring up at him, her arms around his neck and her back turned squarely to the trophy. That sounds nothing like the posed, 'let's hoist up the trophy' picture that the rest of you have. And it certainly doesn't sound like the kind of picture that belongs on a _wall of Rachel winning stuff_. That's the kind of picture that belongs on a _wall of stuff that's really important to Rachel_." Chelsea smiled almost smugly and looked over at Finn, who was still staring at her somewhat warily. "Oh, and just last week at your mom's, I overheard Kurt on the phone giving her the same 'You-haven't-had-a-date-in-over-five-years-suck-it-up-and-get-out-there' speech that you used to give Puck at least once a week."

Finn sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "Not a word to Puck babe, promise me."

**_I'm on my way, I'm on my way  
Home sweet home, tonight tonight  
I'm on my way, just set me free  
Home sweet home_ **

"Sooo?" Kurt bounced on the balls of his feet and clasped his hands in front of his chest. "What do you think?"

"I think it's incredible." Rachel wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek before turning to do the same to Blaine. The three stood together in the foyer of Rachel's new home for the first time. "Thank you guys so much, for everything. Most recently," she laughed lightly, "for the ride."

"Don't be silly. It was our pleasure to pick you up at the airport," Blaine answered. "I'm just surprised your dads weren't falling all over themselves to do it."

Rachel shrugged. "They're working. Besides, what's the rush? There will be plenty of time for them to see me now." She smiled and ran her fingertips along the wall as she walked toward the dining room, already fully furnished and decorated by her best friends. "Really," she let her eyes sweep the room, "thank you so much for everything you've done to make this move easier on me."

Rachel wasn't being dramatic or overly liberal with her praise. She really didn't know what she would have done without Kurt and Blaine. The two men had taken care of all the details of the house-purchasing process, faxing her papers to be signed when necessary. Then, once the home was officially hers and Mrs. Carpenter was in sunny Florida with her grandson, Blaine started taking measurements and finding small things here and there to fix while Kurt immediately swooped in with fabric swatches and paint samples. By the time Rachel moved in, months after actually purchasing the house, the dining room, the den, and the third bedroom, all rooms she hadn't had in New York, were ready to be lived in. Through a combination of the internet and iPhone pictures from the guys, Rachel had purchased everything for the rooms without ever setting foot in Ohio. Kurt and Blaine then set it all up, making it possible for Rachel to walk into a new house with three rooms she didn't have to unpack and set up.

Blaine only shrugged off Rachel's gratitude. "You act like decorating a house from scratch isn't right at the top of the list of 'things that make Kurt Hummel drool.'" Kurt huffed in mock-annoyance and Blaine moved to put an arm around his shoulders. "Besides, I think we would have built the whole house from the ground up if it meant getting our girl back in town."

"Thank you." Rachel stood between both men and looped one arm through each of theirs to whisper in their ears.

"Okay sweetie," Kurt pulled away and smoothed his shirt, "this has been lovely, but now we must be going. I've got a conference call in 20 minutes and Blaine has to get to work. You're covered for tonight, right? We don't want you sitting in this place all alone surrounded by boxes."

"Or," Blaine interrupted, "worse yet, trying to get all this unpacking done in one day all by yourself."

"I'm good." Rachel stepped back and started to lead the men to the door. "I'm going to my dads' for dinner tonight, so they'll keep me occupied."

"Okay, well, if you need anything, just call." Blaine kissed her once more on the cheek before the two men left her alone in her new house.

Rachel closed the door behind her friends and turned her back to it, slumping against it slightly. So far, she had been riding on an adrenaline high. First she was in New York, finishing up her run in "Funny Girl." Then she was helping her replacement transition into the role. And finally, she was packing up her apartment and sleeping in an old cast mate's guestroom for a week while all her belongings were shipped to Ohio. Through all of that, all she could think about was what a big move she was making and how excited she was about it. But now, now she was alone in a house full of boxes (except for three rooms she would hardly use anyway) and all she could think about was what a BIG move she had made and how terrified she was about it.

She spent over an hour trying to unpack, but it just wasn't working. Rachel had bounced from one room to another, too overwhelmed to really get anything done anywhere. Knowing she was seconds away from a tear-filled breakdown, Rachel snatched her purse from the hook by the door and flew across the front porch, letting the door slam behind her as she turned and headed up the sidewalk on foot.

~.~

Rachel leaned on the doorway and watched her friend working, oblivious to her presence. Smiling, she cleared her throat and took a small step into the classroom. "Hi, I was looking for my friend Mercedes. You know, you look kind of like her, but I can't be sure, since it's been over two years since the last time she visited me."

Mercedes's head flew up from the paperwork she was scribbling on. "Oh my – What are you doing here?" She jumped from the desk and ran to hug Rachel. "It's been six years and you haven't visited once. What brings you here now? Is everything okay with your dads? I just saw them at the grocery store last week." Mercedes's brow furrowed and she looked a little worried.

Rachel waved off her concern and moved to sit at a desk in the front row. Mercedes perched on the edge of her own desk and eyed the smaller girl in front of her. "What if I told you I'm not visiting?" Rachel watched Mercedes's eyes narrow at her and she smiled. "I moved. I bought Mrs. Carpenter's old house, right down the road."

"You did what?" Mercedes gripped the edge of her desk and leaned forward, her jaw slack.

Rachel bit her lip and nodded. "Just got in today." She broke into a smile when Mercedes smiled back at her.

"Wow! Well, this is … sudden." She moved around the desk to sit in her chair.

"Umm, no, it's not, actually." Rachel's hands fidgeted on the desk top as her friend stared back at her. "I bought the house two months ago. I made the decision to move almost a year ago. I've just been tying up loose ends. Kurt and Blaine took care of everything for me here in Lima. I truly couldn't have done it without them."

"Kurt knew! Oooh … I'm gonna have a talk with that boy. I can't believe -,"

"No! Don't be mad at him! I made them promise. I didn't want anyone to know." Rachel shrunk a little under Mercedes's scrutinizing gaze. "I didn't want to deal with … the publicity." It was obvious to her that Mercedes wanted to say something to that, so Rachel was grateful when she held her tongue.

"So, Mrs. Carpenter's huh?" Mercedes said instead. "Tell me about this house."

For the next 20 minutes, the women talked about Rachel's house and what she planned to do to it now that she was actually going to be living there. The visit was restoring Rachel's mood to what it had been before Kurt and Blaine left her that morning. "And how's the unpacking coming?"

Rachel half-laughed, half-scoffed at the question. "It's not. That's kind of why I'm here. I couldn't look at the boxes anymore. They were like, taunting me or something." Both women laughed.

"Promise me something," Rachel nodded. "You're not going to go home and lock yourself in until those boxes are all unpacked. You've got plenty of time; don't stress yourself about this." Rachel rolled her eyes but nodded. "So, not that I'm complaining or anything, but what brings you back to little ol' Lima?"

Rachel shrugged again and dropped her eyes. "After the Tonys last year-,"

"Congrats by the way."

"Thank you. After the Tonys last year, I just kind of felt like I had reached my peak. I accomplished my goals. I did what I went there to do, basically. And while Kurt and Blaine were with me that night, really, I was alone. I was 23 with everything I wanted for myself and no one to share it with." Rachel ignored the look on her friend's face. "So, since I had, in fact, done what I set out to do, I decided maybe it was time to come back home." She got quiet at the end, and didn't go back to that part about being alone.

"Well, I, for one, am very glad you made your dreams come true." The two women giggled. "Are you happy to be back?" Mercedes rested her elbow on her desk and dropped her chin into her hand.

"Yeah," Rachel sighed. "Terrified – I mean, I really have no idea what I'm going to do and how … _people_ are going to feel about me being back – but I'm happy."

"That's great, and-,"

"Hey Mercedes, Schuester wanted me to remind everyone to turn in your closing checklist before you leave for the day. He said even principals deserve a summer vacation, and he won't get his if we skip out without handling the 'bureaucratic b.s.'" The unfamiliar woman in the doorway laughed as she delivered Mr. Schuester's words, complete with air quotes.

It was only when the stranger showed up to remind Mercedes of the paperwork that she had to turn in that Rachel truly recognized the fact that she had just barged into a high school classroom on a Friday. She remembered that she hadn't seen anyone on her way in, and that it was very late May, thanking heaven that, apparently, school was out for the summer. The reality of what Mercedes did and where Rachel was going to see her was the farthest thing from her mind when Rachel flew out her front door and up the five short blocks to the school. She had no clue what she would have done if she had walked into a room full of antsy teenagers.

"Oh my gosh," the stranger continued, "I'm so sorry to interrupt; I didn't realize you had a visitor." The young woman walked toward Rachel, hand extended. "Hi, I'm Maddie."

Rachel stood from the desk she had been sitting in and took the woman's hand. "Hi Maddie. Rachel." She smiled at the warmth in Maddie's expression.

"I know," Maddie giggled. "You're Rachel Berry. You're kind of famous around here. Well," she rolled her eyes good-naturedly at herself, "you're kind of famous in general, I guess."

"Rachel is one of my best friends," Mercedes chimed in, causing Maddie to swivel her head in the opposite direction, nodding at the same time. "And she just moved back into town, so I hope you get over this little star-struck bit pretty fast, 'cause you'll probably be seeing a lot of her."

Maddie's head flew back around to look at Rachel and she dropped her hand. "You moved back to Lima?" Rachel smiled and nodded. "Oh, well, that's … that's great." Maddie had regained her composure and was again smiling warmly at Rachel. "Okay, so, I guess I need to get my own stuff taken care of so I can get out of here and start my summer. Mercedes, I'll see you tomorrow?" She turned to look at her friend, who nodded. "And Rachel, it was really nice to meet you, and … and," suddenly Maddie was flying toward Rachel and before Rachel could react, Maddie's arms were around her neck, "I'm just really glad you came home. Really glad."

Mercedes and Rachel looked at one another over Maddie's shoulder, the other girl oblivious to the confused, wide-eyed glances the friends were sharing. Almost as suddenly as she had initiated the hug, Maddie pulled away from Rachel and smoothed her blouse and skirt before sending a sheepish grin to both women and walking out of the room.

"What …" Rachel started as soon as she believed Maddie was out of earshot. Mercedes only lifted her hands and shook her head. "Wow, um, okay. So I'll get out of your hair and let you finish working. I feel a lot better; I think I can probably get something done back at the house now. Thanks for the talk."

"Of course girl, any time. And remember, don't stress too much about those boxes. You don't have to get them all done in one day you know." Rachel rolled her eyes but smiled. "Goin' to your dads' tonight?" Rachel nodded. "What about tomorrow night, need some place to be? I'm having a little Memorial-Day-slash-end-of-the-school-year-barbecue at my house." Rachel looked ready to refuse, and, anticipating what she assumed her argument would be, Mercedes cut her off before she could speak. "It's just work people. I invited some of our old crew, but Finn and Chelsea both have to work and Kurt and Blaine have some _thing_ with Blaine's parents, so I just stopped asking people and decided to make it a McKinley thing. Only teachers," Mercedes stressed again, "but you're welcome to come. We already know Maddie likes you."

Rachel laughed, but shook her head again. She knew what Mercedes thought, but her refusal had nothing to do with the possibility of _him_ being at the barbecue. (She tried to ignore the nagging feeling that knowing for sure he wouldn't be there only made her more sure that she didn't want to be, either.) She decided that she had relied on everyone else far too much throughout this whole process; it was time to stand on her own two feet. That meant facing up to everything (everyone) that came along with her return home.

**_Home sweet home  
Home sweet home  
Home sweet home_ **

So apparently, that whole 'standing on her own two feet' thing was going to have to wait at least one more day. When Rachel left McKinley after popping her head into Mr. Schuester's office to congratulate him on completing his first successful year as principal (because after Figgins, any year without a major catastrophic event or riot-inducing assembly was considered hugely successful), she took the long way back to her house to stop by the convenience store around the corner and pick up a couple things she needed at the house (she would be worthless in the morning without coffee, and yeah, toilet paper was a definite necessity) and a grape slushie, for old time's sake. By the time she got home and got at least as far as unpacking her toiletry bag and the 'towel box' into the upstairs bathroom, it was late afternoon and her daddy was calling to let her know that he was home from work and she could come over 'as soon as she was ready.' So, okay, she wanted to stand on her own two feet, she wanted to get her house in order, but this was her daddy. She hadn't seen her fathers in months and she knew that as soon as she opened the front door, she would be greeted with the smell of something wonderful being cooked especially for her (she just realized she was starving, she hadn't eaten since Kurt and Blaine stopped on the way home from the airport that morning). Independence could wait.

After dinner – nobody made vegan lasagna like Leroy Berry, not even Rachel herself – Rachel somehow managed to get talked into spending the night in her old room. (" _We haven't had our little girl in our house in almost six years. You owe us!_ ") She woke on Saturday morning to the smell of cinnamon spice coffee and bright yellow walls. ( _Thank goodness I have Kurt now; he'd kill me before letting me paint any of the walls in my house a color like this._ ) She padded down the stairs in a pair of lavender puppy dog pajamas that hadn't seen the light of day since she was 16 and joined her dads at the table. She didn't even have time to ask for it before a steaming mug of caramel-colored coffee was placed before her and she felt a kiss on the back of her head.

"One soy milk and two sugars, just like my little princess likes it."

"Thanks daddy," Rachel almost purred into her mug.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Leroy asked, pushing a serving bowl of fresh cut fruit across the table to his daughter. "I don't want to be a bummer or anything, but you do remember that your dad and I have plans, right?" He watched, a bemused smile on his face, as his daughter nodded, picking through the bowl to find all the kiwi slices. "We have to leave in just a couple hours and we won't be back until Monday around lunchtime. I'm so sorry we won't be here for your first weekend back in town, but this whole Memorial Day thing up at the lake is really important with your dad's bosses. You can still come along if you want, our cabin sleeps eight, and I believe there are only six of us in it as of right now. Besides, who could complain about having you around?"

Rachel popped the last kiwi slice into her mouth then dropped a few grapes and banana slices onto a napkin before grabbing her mug and standing from the table. She knew where this was going. There was a reason that everyone who knew she was back in Lima – from Kurt and Blaine to Mercedes and even Mr. Shuester to her dads – was so wary of her being alone, and she didn't think it had anything to do with her not being able to take care of or even occupy herself. She had, after all, spent plenty of time alone in her apartment in New York, and no one seemed to have a problem with that. She didn't know why they all thought she had really come back (she had wondered at times, herself), but she needed to show them all (and again, _herself_ ) that she could handle whatever, or whomever, came her way.

Both hands full, she kissed first her dad and then her daddy on the temple before shaking her head. "No daddy, I'll be fine, really."

( _I have to face … **things** … eventually.)_

" Mercedes invited me to a barbecue-,"

( _But I'm not going.)_

"-and besides, I really need get started on that whole unpacking thing."

( _I can't run into **anyone** in my own house, right?)_

"Alright princess," her dad stood to clear the table, "well, in case we're occupied when you head out, have a great weekend."

"Oh, and Rachel," she stopped in the doorway and looked back at her daddy, "don't lock yourself up in that house trying to get everything unpacked in one day."

She huffed and stomped one foot. "Why does everyone keep saying that to me?"

Both men laughed. "Because we all know you, sweetheart. Just promise, okay?"

"Fine daddy, I promise." Rachel rolled her eyes but smiled once she turned to leave the room. It was nice having people who really did know her and who cared that much.

Rachel didn't want to lie to her parents (or Mercedes, Kurt, or Blaine, for that matter), but she really did want to at least make a dent in the cardboard mountain in her home. So, she showered and dressed quickly, throwing on a pair of yoga pants and an old McKinley High t-shirt she found in the dresser in her old room, the only clothes in that house she would still be caught dead wearing in public. She yelled a quick goodbye to her dads before slipping out the front door and into her car, which she had thankfully elected to ship to Lima a week before with everything else she owned.

Walking into the house, Rachel tried to ignore the chaos that was the living room to her right, keeping her eyes straight ahead and heading to the kitchen. It was chaos too, but it was the chaos that she chose to start with. After her bathroom, which was already finished (you can't overestimate the value of a hot shower, and how hard is it to set up a bathroom?), the kitchen was the next room that she wanted to be completed. To start with, the bistro-style table and chairs that had fit into her small kitchen in New York were the only pieces of furniture outside of the couch that didn't have to be assembled. (The bed was just going to have to wait until Kurt and Blaine or her dads could come help her.) Secondly, while even the bedroom could wait (it wouldn't kill her to sleep on the couch for a couple of nights), nothing could compare to being able to roll out of bed ( _couch_ ) and go get a fresh cup of coffee and breakfast without even having to change out of her pajamas (in her _own_ kitchen, this time).

Rachel had honestly expected the kitchen to be one of the easier, quicker rooms to set up. Really, it was just putting dishes in cabinets. She was wrong. Once she started unpacking dishes, Rachel realized that there was no way she would be comfortable putting them away without washing them first. That led to her washing every dish, piece of flatware, and pot, pan and baking dish she owned. Then, as she was putting them away, she changed her mind several times about where certain items should go, moving her plates and cups five times, her stovetop cooking pans three times, and her bakeware twice. By the time she collapsed onto the floor, leaning back against the island after hanging her last wine glass on the glass rack under its countertop (why hadn't she noticed _that_ earlier?), it was nearly seven o'clock. She found her phone under the neatly stacked broken down cardboard boxes on the table and called her favorite Chinese restaurant from high school.

As she finished her dinner and took out all the trash she had managed to accumulate over the course of the day, Rachel was tempted to move on to unpacking the living room and get as much done as she could without having someone there who could reconstruct her entertainment center and connect the surround sound system that her daddy insisted she had to have. (It really did enhance the viewing experience of her musicals.) But she remembered the promises she had made to her dads (and nearly everyone else, for that matter) and resolved to be finished for the night. The only problem was, there was no way she could be in that house without unpacking boxes. She was sure she could still show up at Mercedes's barbecue and be welcomed with open arms, but it just wasn't what she wanted to do. She remembered that martini bar that she had noticed on the way in the previous morning; Kurt said it was new and it reminded her of the places she would go with her girlfriends in New York (as much as anything in Lima could remind her of New York), but it also wasn't what she wanted to do. She tried not to over-think the fact that the only place she could think of that she really wanted to go to get her mind off of the very unlivable state of her home was a small bar on the outskirts of town with concrete floors, wooden furniture, and a playlist that consisted almost solely of country music; a place she had been snuck into once in high school because some up-and-coming band from Columbus was playing there (and they really were up-and-coming, winning a Best New Artist Grammy the next year – _he_ always did have good taste in music).

Even while she was showering to wash off the sweat and grime acquired from unpacking, Rachel tried to convince herself that she was not going to go to that bar. And if she did end up there, it was only because she could really use a drink and a relaxing night to get her mind off of everything she still had to do. When she pulled on her simplest top – a v-neck t-shirt that hugged her body in all the right places – and a denim skirt, she thought that those clothes were relaxed and perfectly appropriate for the kind of place that she still tried to deny, if only in her own mind, that she was going to. When she picked up her keys and headed out to the car, she finally admitted to herself that she was, in fact, going to end up at the bar that she did _not_ plan to go to. As she drove, she swore to herself, and a bit to the air around her, that she was not going there because it was _his_ bar. She didn't really know _why_ she was going there, but it wasn't because of him. It couldn't be. At the same time, she knew she would have to see him eventually – Lima was a tiny town, after all – so if he just happened to be there, well, she was just getting it out of the way. (And well, she was a grown woman now, and it had been nearly six years since … _things_ happened. If he just so happened to be there, she would conduct herself properly, the way an _old friend_ should.) She parked the car then took a deep breath and checked her make-up in the visor mirror before sliding out and dropping her keys into her purse.

**_Ooh, I'm on my way, I'm on my way  
Home sweet home, yeah  
I'm on my way, just set me free  
Home sweet home_ **

Rachel smoothed her denim skirt, unnecessarily, before opening the door of the bar.


End file.
